In doubt
But then in absence
In absence, that was everything
In silence that was deafening
In death arrives nothingness
But he was everything to me
I close my eyes to see an oblivion that has no echo, no wind
Lined up
To pay our respects to the inverted nothing
My nothing became a freedom with shackles on my wrists
Into wasteland
Institutionalised by the feeling
In the shadow of a babel
That everything is fleeting
This was, is, all mine, yours, never ours
Text by Blackhaine